"Eight merchantmen. That is the correct number."
Blenkinsop had not been shown Captain Murray's note; the news came as a surprise to him.
"Horizon clear, sir."
"No distant escort, well out to sea, Mr Blenkinsop. Always a possibility with an important convoy. Was I the Spanish admiral then I might well be inclined to put a seventy-four and a frigate or two out at the limit of visibility where they could drop down on any attacker with a freedom that a close escort might not possess."
"I did hear, sir, that the Spanish was said to have marched the crews of many of the line-of-battle ships inland from Cartagena, sir. The thought was that they were to go to Cadiz, where there is known to be a shortage of men for the Combined Fleet. Gibraltar is always full of rumours, as you know, sir."
"Good point, sir. The admiral in Cartagena might not have the ships capable of leaving harbour, might have been unable to create a second escort. I wonder how many men they will lose to desertion, Mr Blenkinsop, or to sore feet. I am not sure of the distance involved, but I cannot imagine that I would wish to march men from, say, Portsmouth across to the Nore."
"No, sir, no more would I, but they dare not send them by sea, for fear they might meet up with the likes of us, sir!"
Barber hailed again, said that he could pick up royals in the far distance.
"There is signalling from the merchantmen, sir."
"Unusual. The convoy is so important that the Spanish must have put naval men aboard."
"The merchantmen are furling sail, sir. I believe I can see stun'sls on the far ships, sir. Two of them. Large and single-decked, sir. I would think them to be heavy frigates, sir."
"They have the wind gage, and are willing to use it to attack, it would seem. Was they seventy-fours I might well be inclined to withdraw, but I think we may be able to deal with these gentlemen."
Frederick turned to Dunnett, his clerk, stood by the slate at the binnacle.
"Note this time as the commencement of the action, if you please. Mr Calver, I would like more of sea room, I believe. A tack, perhaps?"
The decision could only be made by the captain, but the advice must come from the master.
"Yes, sir. Then another pair of jibs, sir."
"Make it so, Mr Calver. The ship is yours, sir."
They tacked and then pulled the head as far into the wind as they could, losing speed to gain distance.
"Fighting sail, sir?"
"Not yet, Mr Calver. I wish to retain our capacity to manoeuvre."
Barber called a description of the frigates, now clearly in his view.
"Forty-four guns and perhaps fifty on the second, sir. Seems a bit old-fashioned-like, sir, with a poop deck or something like with another part-tier of guns. Fast though, sir."
Calver coughed and begged pardon.
"Very new, in fact, sir. The Spaniards built a half of a dozen of very large frigates in the last war, thinking that a second deck at the stern would give them all of the speed of a frigate while having the weight of broadside of a Fourth Rate. I am told they can be speedy, but tack and wear only with the facility of a seventy-four, very heavy at the stern. As a result, sir, I am told that some have been re-gunned, to carry those damned great big Spanish thirty-six pounders on the maindeck and twelves on the poop."
"That is one hell of a weight of metal, Mr Calver."
"Properly used, and one cannot always rely upon Spanish inefficiency, sir, they could be a nuisance."
"Let us endeavour to ease her a little, Mr Calver. I would wish to annoy the convoy, to discover whether that will irritate the escort, perhaps provoke them into separating, the faster of the two to come ahead."
Five minutes, the range to the escorts also closing rapidly, and they were within accurate shot of the convoy, about five cables on the quarter.
"Open the broadside, Mr Calver. Mr Iliffe, Mr Doolan! Aimed fire, if you please, check your guns. Mr Wales, ball from the chase guns as they bear then aim the carronades to fire grape into the rigging, as soon as they are in range. Disable the merchantmen, sir, to be dealt with at our convenience. Shoot as we come on the bearing, gentlemen."
It was a large responsibility to place on young lieutenants, but not too great a burden for able men to bear. Frederick kept a careful eye on Wales.
The port chaser fired, short but hit first bounce; acceptable for a cold gun.
Iliffe's forward section of the maindeck twenty-four pounders roared together. He had pointed his first discharge intentionally high and converted a very pretty, elegant xebec into a mass of wreckage above deck, falling out of line and into the trough.
"A pity, sir, to see so handsome a vessel brought to ruin."
"It is indeed, Mr Blenkinsop. But that is war, sir. She is more than ruined, I fear me - that surely is flame I see. A ball in the galley, one must imagine."
The convoy scattered in sensible reaction - no merchant master would bring his own hull close to a burning vessel. Of the seven, five turned towards Euripides, the easier course in the wind, and probably, Frederick thought, intending to surrender themselves.
"That is a quick, hot blaze, Mr Blenkinsop. Barrels of brandy or turpentine and pitch, I suspect."
Two more of the merchantmen were hard hit, the lieutenants very sensible in choosing the pair who had tacked towards the shore in their attempt to escape.
"Frigate coming in range, sir."
"Change target, gentlemen. Chasers, Mr Wales. Now, Mr Calver, let us discover just how alert she might be. Shiver the sails, sir, as if we are about to take a tack across her bows. If she is awake and commences her own turn, then hold our course and we shall put a broadside into her quarter and then, if all goes well, we may have a clear shot at her stern."
"Convoy is close, sir. No colours, sir."
Frederick glanced across, ignored the smaller ships, an inconvenience, no more; he could not take their surrender yet.
"Hail them to lie-to, Mr Blenkinsop."
The leading frigate responded instantly to the signs that Euripides was about to tack and commenced her own turn. Euripides hardened her sails and crossed her stern quarter at a bare cable, pouring a hard-hitting broadside. Frederick heard the rifles sounding, knew that Jean and Marc were scouring her quarterdeck, probably killing the men at the wheel in the hope that she would fall off her tack, be left wholly vulnerable in the trough.
"Second frigate is pointing towards, sir."
Frederick glanced across, estimated her speed.
There was time, just, to tack across the stern of the first, to finish her and then destroy the second, more powerful ship in single action.
"Convoy is still closing, sir!"
"Mr Doolan! Fire a warning shot across those damned merchantmen!"
They were coming onto the stern of the frigate, the forward guns opening fire, pair by pair.
"That's her rudder, sir! She's out of it!"
The twenty-four pound balls were travelling the length of her maindeck now, smashing into guns, ripping their crews apart, while the smaller guns were reloading grape.
"Lowered her colours, sir!"
"Hold fire!"
Frederick turned as the larger, second frigate fired a first heavy broadside, high into their rigging, cutting their speed and ability to tack but doing no harm to Euripides' ability to fight.
"Damned fool! He should have used that one better, Mr Blenkinsop!"
The foremast had taken damage; Frederick looked for signs of Marc and Jean, hoping to see them climbing down.
"Sir, those merchantmen! They are fireships!"
Frederick pulled his attention back to the fight.
"Which explains that broadside! They do not wish us to tack away. How many? How close? Mr Doolan, Mr Iliffe, engage the frigate to port! Mr Wales, ball to the carronades, low into her bows."
"Sir, five fireships, crews abandoned and in their boats. Within the cable and well spread, sir, bows and stern and amidships, sir."
Frederick stared acro
ss the short stretch of water, at the burning ships, abandoned with all sail set and the wheel tied; whatever he did, some at least would come aboard. Too close to sink them before they collided; too little room to tack away with the foremast wounded; too short a time to take spare timbers from the racks and use them to boom them away.
"We are well caught, Mr Blenkinsop. A good trap. Boatholders away! Cast off and hold clear!"
The boats had all been set to tow as they cleared for action, as was normal practice.
"Firemen! With your buckets, to the port."
The fireships were flaming high, barrels of pitch and oil all alight below decks, rigging catching, the tarry ropes flaring. Not a hope of saving the ship without rigging the pumps, and no time to do so; they would need five minutes and more to set the hoses, and men taken from the guns.
"The Surgeon to bring his patients on deck, Mr Blenkinsop. Get them into the boats first."
The guns continued to fire, all together in their broadsides.
"Bosomtwi! Kavanagh! To my cabin, quickly. Confidential books to me. Captain's log as well."
They ran, Kavanagh to the books as ordered, Bosomtwi to make a collection of all of the valuables that were not to be lost. The captain's diamond was not to be drowned!
Frederick made his check as the first fireship came aboard them and flames ran up the mainmast.
"Signals and Orders Books; Confidential Codes."
The three ledgers were contained in lead covers and would sink instantly; he personally threw them over the side, Calver standing as his witness.
"Captain Thomas, Marines to the launch and take possession of the surrendered frigate, sir. Boatswain! Accompany Captain Thomas and take her crew in hand, commence your survey. If we are to go home, then it is in her."
A final broadside and there was no more time; he had pinched it tight already. The men had done well to hold to the guns. The flames were licking at the sails and they had a very few minutes to escape.
"Abandon ship! All hands! To the boats."
The boatswain's mates piped the command, unnecessarily, but making a point; discipline still held.
"Spaniard's abandoning too, sir!"
Lieutenant Wales was dancing for joy, believing that his carronades had won the day. The frigate's bows were open to the sea, timbers ripped apart by the heavy, low-velocity balls that smashed and tore rather than penetrating the wood and leaving a tidy hole.
"She's drifting down on her own fireships, sir!"
"Good! Abandon ship, now! Off you go, man!"
The last of the men were going over the side, some making for the haven of hatch covers and timber they had flung into the sea. There was insufficient room in the boats for the whole crew, although the first parties were swarming aboard the taken Spaniard and the longboats were returning.
"Boots off, Bosomtwi!"
Frederick bent to obey his own instruction as a second fireship collided with the stern and a great gout of flame engulfed the mizzen; a burning rope fell across him and he staggered, shirt afire.
He felt himself falling, shouted in pain as sea water put out the flames and cooled his skin.
Bosomtwi and Kavanagh on either side of him, holding him up in the water, bellowing to the longboat a few yards away.
He was blind; it was black.
He dipped his head underwater, forced his eyes open, saw light and wept as the brine cleared the smoke from his eyes.
"Jesus! I thought I had lost my sight! Did you two get me over the side?"
Stupid question - how else could it, would it, have happened.
"Got the stuff, sir, isn't it, and the Captain's Log, but I don't know if it waterproof, the bit of canvas I got for it."
"Thank you." He wanted to say to hell with the Log, but it would have been so ungrateful.
They heaved him into the boat and then aboard the taken frigate, brought him to the Surgeon, staggering on shaky legs. The pain of the burns combined with the fear for his eyes had left him weak, unable to respond for the first few minutes.
"Burns to the chest and the cheek, sir, and some across the back. No heat in them, sir, I suspect the salt water cooled them quickly. They will scar, but you will be unharmed otherwise, excepting the sepsis takes them, sir, and that is the Will of God. I have dressed them with olive-oil compresses, sir, to keep the skin supple. Wear a light shirt, sir, and no stock, no heavy uniform coat to irritate. You must not shave your face for at least a month, sir. A light diet, sir, avoiding red meats for the month as well. Take your lemon juice twice daily, for the burns will weaken the system, render you susceptible to ailments such as the scurvy. One glass of red wine a day, sir, and port as you wish - very good for the blood, port wine, sir! Avoid gin! For the eyes, sir, Dr Smellome's Ointment, a new treatment including verdigris and known to be most effective. Stoughton's Elixir, for the system, and fifty drops of laudanum a day, to restore the balance of the nerves. Of course, sir - none of these until we reach Gibraltar, for I am much afraid that my medicine chest is not available to me!"
Frederick thanked Doctor Carlisle for his prescriptions, said he would certainly follow them.
He heaved himself to his feet and allowed Bosomtwi to button him into a very fine cotton shirt. He did not ask which Spanish officer had made the donation, or how willing he had been.
An hour passed and the last seamen were pulled aboard, the strongest men who had insisted that their fellows should go first into the boats while they swam.
They had drifted half a mile from Euripides, aflame from bows to stern, lying perhaps half a cable from the larger frigate which had managed to avoid the fireships and was now making an attempt to repair her bows. There seemed to be very few men in the water, as if those who had abandoned had returned to the ship, probably for lack of any other safe place.
"They will never manage it, sir. They must abandon. The first hatful of wind will sink them."
"You are probably right, Mr Calver. What is our bill, sir?"
"We lost young Mr Iliffe, sir. He jumped overboard and hit his head on a floating timber; never came up again. The Gunner died, too, could not breathe as they manhandled him into a boat."
"Poor fellow... did his mates flood the magazine, do you know?"
The master did not know if they had; he ran to Mr Blenkinsop, busy with the party attempting to jury-rig the rudder they had so thoroughly smashed.
The shout went up for the Gunner's mates to attend the captain.
"Flood the magazine, sir? Not me, sir, not with powder at twenty pence the pound, sir!"
The junior said that he had been busy with the chasers, the gun captain having been hit by a splinter and they needing a man to lay them.
"Can we make even a little of sail, Mr Calver? Every cable distant from that magazine will be desirable."
There was a great rushing of topmen and the able-bodied to set a jib, soon a pair of jibs, and then the main topsail, whose sheets had been spliced as an early task.
"Stops the bloody rolling, too, sir. Doctor Carlisle been asking for a steady table this half-hour and more."
Every man knew what had happened to the French flagship at the Nile - the story of the blowing up of L'Orient was firmly part of naval folklore. Two of the older seamen were making much of it, arguing whether the explosion would sink them.
"Not the half so much powder in the old Euripides, mate!"
"Ah! But English powder do be better than French, which every man knows what knows anything at all!"
A watchful petty officer stepped in and prevented any exchange of blows, warning both men to mind their mouths.
"Have we got a list of the dead, Mr Calver?"
"Your Mr Dunnett is making it up, sir. He kicked the Spanish captain out of his cabin and is sat down with his pen and ink, sir. I think, as well, that he has sequestered the poor man's papers. All of his papers, sir!"
"Not the Books!"
"I believe so, sir."
"Glory be! Much will be forgiven the man
who takes the current Spanish codebook!"
"Ah... your two men, sir, your sharpshooters... I haven't seen them, sir. Not since that broadside hit high in the foremast, sir."
"Both gone, you say?"
"They ain't aboard, sir. I had a look around with the glass they got here - not the best, I must say - and I can't see them any place in the water, sir. Not a sign of them floating."
Blenkinsop reported that the rudder could not be repaired outside of a dry dock, although they might try a pair of camels in Gibraltar.
"I shall leave that particular activity to the Arabs, Mr Blenkinsop!"
Blenkinsop blushed, he had not meant camels in that sense.
"Lighten ship, sir, and tie her up to a pair of heavily laden barges, sitting low in the water, one on either side, sir; why they call them 'camels', I know not! Often, sir, when this is done in a dockyard with their own lighters, they fill the barges' holds with barrels, sir, and ship a pair of pumps. They fill the barrels with sea water until the barges are left with no more than a couple of inches of freeboard. Then when all is ready, they set to pump the water out, sir, thus to lift the ship between them. If all goes well, and the barges are big enough and the ship within reason small, then she may be lifted as much as three feet, sir."
It might be sufficient to give access to the stern and the rudder pintles, but it would be tight. If Gibraltar was to become the great base commanding the whole of the Mediterranean then there must be a fully equipped naval dockyard as well.
"What do we do for the while? I am unwilling to wallow along at one or two knots for a week."
"Was she a sloop or brig, I would say a Danube rudder, sir. But there would be insufficient leverage with so large a frigate."
A Danube rudder was little more than a heavy barrel towed astern with blocks set to swing the weight to left or right to give an opposite turn to the vessel.
"All we can suggest, Mr Calver and I, sir, is to use the boats, sir, two astern, two at the bows, to tow her as is wanted, hauling bows and stern into position by main strength, sir. The boats all have their sails, sir, it won't be to exhaust the men by rowing."
"Then let us do that, Mr Blenkinsop. I could wish I had kept Watson in company - his little polacca would be very useful just now."
A Busy Season (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 8) Page 11
